


Letters to the Past

by MichaelMell (GalacticTwink)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: After Hamilton dies, Angst, Drabble, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hamburr, Letters, M/M, Pining, Remorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7947925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/MichaelMell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Alexander's death, Aaron refused to let the man go; haunted by his former rival and feelings he didn't know he had been harbouring for him. He can't bring himself to move on, writing letters to the dead man with nowhere to send them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Eugh, ao3 formatted it funny but eh

“I cannot believe that I can't finish this. It's so simple I could do it in my sleep. It's so simple that Hamilton could-” but Hamilton couldn't, because Hamilton is dead. And Hamilton is dead because Burr shot him.  
“It's been so calm since Alexander left, I've begun talking to myself just to fill the void.” Burr sits back down again, taking up his quill and touching it to a clean sheet of parchment. It glides across the surface, leaving its ink behind in messy letters and horrid penmanship that not many can read in order to enjoy it. Without reading what his hand is writing, Burr looks down to a letter he's apparently penned. To Hamilton. A letter he's written too late; a letter Burr will never get to send.  
“But perhaps..” He says aloud as he writes the words, dipping his quill in the inkwell for more ink before he continues.  
“If I am to die with this letter on my person, I shall pass on with it; and gift it to you upon arrival to your new firey home where I shall surely join you.” Burr watches his own handwriting fill the parchment, barely remembering what word comes after the next as he takes them down on paper until he comes to the sign off.  
“With all my love, Aaron Burr.” He closes the letter, blowing lightly at the ink to help dry it faster before folding the letter and tucking it in his breast pocket. As he stands, Burr goes over his own words in his mind.  
_Dear Alexander,_  
I was quick to anger, and sought no solution but that which was unwise for the both of us. Now, in your fiery prison, I do hope you are doing well. And I do hope that you willn't be enraged upon seeing my face again when my own time comes to pass. For now, I haven't a way to tell you the things unsaid and words unspoken. The feelings that shan't be felt again until you are by my side once again. But perhaps, if I am to die with this letter on my person, I shall pass on with it; and gift it to you when I arrive to your new fiery home where I shall surely join you. And though I am writing to a ghost, it still brings me comfort to know I haven't imagined you altogether. No one speaks of you unless under the influence, as though the sting of your loss affects only them; or perhaps it's me, and their knowledge of our differences that keeps them silent. But I am not without guilt and I am not without pain of my own. I shall me seeing you, my Alexander, worry not on that matter.  
                        With all my love,  
                               Aaron Burr  
~~  
“Sir?” Aaron looks up, his assistant watching him intently waiting for something.  
“Yes?” Burr blinks at the boy, his quill in hand and a letter in the other.  
“Where shall I address this letter to?” He stands, looking over the boy's shoulder at the letter he'd written weeks ago to Alexander.  
“Put it in the envelope and give it to me, that one is a bit different from the rest.” Burr sighs, taking the envelope and writing Alexander's name across the front. That should be straightforward enough; this letter isn't going anywhere.  
“You can go now.” He shoos the boy, sitting himself back in his chair and dipping his quill into the inkwell.

 _Dear Alexander,_  
I am slow to love, as I'm sure my Theodosia has told you by now, but I can say with utmost certainty that I loved you. Far more than I should have; so much so that I couldn't see it until you'd gone. I believe now, that you will not be seeing me in Hell but are in fact residing with the Angels; just as you were here. Your name is nearly a curse now, not uttered by a soul in the cabinet or otherwise. He wouldn't say, but even the President seems to be more solemn in the silence you've left us in.  
                                  With love,  
                                 Aaron Burr  
~~  
_Alexander,_  
I see now why they dare not utter your name. I see why Laurens’ death affected you so greatly, but still I do not understand why you didn't shoot me. Surely you couldn't have felt for me, your enemy. And yet, your men tell me that they utter not your name for my sake rather than their own. They tell me of yourself and Laurens; of what you told no others. Why have they told me so much Alexander? Did we not butt heads time and time again for thirty years? Were we not enemies? But then, did I not care for you?  
                            With My Love,  
                                Aaron Burr  
~~  
_Dearest Alexander,_  
Shall I join you? Try and join you up there while I still have the chance? Alexander I can't bear this silence any longer. You aren't here pestering me, and making me work all that much harder to impress even you; Now there's no one to impress. No motivation. You motivated me, Alexander. Surely I could be motivated once again after reuniting. Though, I doubt you'd care to see me after what I've done to you. Do you despise me?  
         I would despise me as well,  
                                Aaron Burr  
~~  
_Alexander,_  
My eyes ache for the sight of you, my being yearning for the chance to drink you in once again. I haven't been to see you since they put your body to rest, though I was begrudgingly invited to the service. I attended, but refused to gaze upon your body; I couldn't bear it. Now, I'm going to. Perhaps I could apologise, not that you can hear me anymore anyways.  
                              With sorrow,  
                                Aaron Burr  
~~  
_Are you haunting me Alexander? I see you every time my lids close, your laugh in my ears when the room is silent; your smile all my mind can focus on. Are you here, trying to drive me over the edge for what I did to you? Did you hear what I said to you the other day? I swear, I didn't mean it Alexander. Your name is too precious and too fair to curse in such a manner. Please, leave me be. But no, I don't want you to go. I want to see you, Alexander I want to debate with you again._  
                          One last time?,  
                               Aaron Burr  
~~  
_My Alexander,_  
I apologise for my outburst, I just can't control myself without something else to focus my attention to. You meant so much more to me than I ever thought you did, and now I can't tell you. Oh, how I wish you could have been given more time on our Earth with me. The country isn't the same without you, it misses you Alexander.  
                               And so do I,  
                                Aaron Burr  
~~  
_My love,_  
I ache for you Alexander; to speak with you again and tell you all that I have to say. I want to speak with you again. But I can't, I just can't bring myself to go and see you; to look at the stone and tell myself that you're gone and not coming back. As long as I stay away, I can still hope that it's just a dream I have yet to awaken from. Alexander, could you forgive me? If I utter the words, would you still wish to see me again? If I cry, will I be weak? Would you laugh, to see me in such a pathetic state? No, I know you wouldn't Alexander. You were a better person than that, though I'm sure I never said it. You were always better than me, and I need to tell you. I need to see your name, and what they put beneath it. I'll see you soon, old friend; and perhaps in person once again someday.  
  You didn't throw away your shot,  
                                 Aaron Burr

**Author's Note:**

> And I like to picture him going to Alexander's grave and reading his letters for him.


End file.
